I. Parker - Death of a Doll Maker

“No. She had no friends. Or family either.” He started blubbering again and wrung his fat hands. “I told you, she was a devoted wife. She had me, and I had her. We were like the two halves of a clam.”

Tora looked at him. He was a singularly unattractive man. No wonder his wife invited men into her house.

Maeda got up. “Well, we’ll ask around, Mr. Kuroki. You do the same. If you can think of anything, let us know.”

Outside, he said to Tora, “She’s gone off with a lover. Taking her favorite quilt.”

Tora thought it likely, but something nagged at him.

Across the street, Mitsui’s son was loading his father’s handcart. Now that old Mitsui had been sentenced, the son was in a hurry to sell his property.

Tora said as much, and Maeda nodded. “May he choke on the money,” he growled.

They crossed the street to Mrs. Kimura’s house. They could hear the children’s voices and laughter. When Maeda shouted a greeting, the children came running, smiles on their faces. Kichiro’s eye had healed, but he still had an ugly scab on his cheekbone.

“You look like a man who’s been in a fight,” Tora said, grinning.

Kichiro laughed. “I was. It was nothing. They ran.”

The girl, suddenly shy, said, “Kichiro, that isn’t true. Saburo made them run.”

“Saburo sends his regrets, being busy with work,” Tora said. “He may stop by some evening.” Saburo wanted to visit them, but the children only knew the bearded man, and he could not wear his facial hair during the day without someone becoming suspicious.

Mrs. Kimura welcomed them and offered fruit juice on her veranda. The garden was filled with bird song coming from the many cages hanging from trees.

“The children are such a blessing to me,” she said, watching them fondly as they tended to the birds. “I’m still afraid to let them go out, but they want to sell the birds in the market.”

Maeda said, “It should be safe enough, provided they only go there and come straight back, and never after dark. We stopped by on another matter. Mrs. Kuroki, your neighbor across the street, seems to have disappeared and her husband is very worried. Would you happen to know anything about her activities yesterday?”

Mrs. Kimura’s eyes widened. “Yoko? Disappeared? So she finally had enough.” She giggled, then covered her mouth. “Shame on me. The poor man.” But she spoiled it with another giggle. “I’m sorry. He’s been so silly about her, and she hates that so much. Some people should never get married.” She nodded toward the Mitsui house. “There’s proof for you. I hear Mitsui confessed to killing Mei?”

“He did. That case is closed. Now we’re looking for Yoko. You don’t think Kuroki killed her?”

She laughed. “Oh, no. He doesn’t have the strength for anything as strenuous as murder. I expect she’s gone off with someone.”

“Who?”

“A man. She used to have them coming around pretending to make deliveries. They went inside, stayed a while and came back out whistling.” She smiled.

“Can you describe them?” Tora asked.

They got descriptions of several young men, younger than either Tora or Maeda. They had other features in common. They were handsome and well-built. They wore short pants and colorful shirts and sandals on their feet. “Ordinary market porters,” she said, “but young and good-looking. Yoko had good taste. I used to wish them joy. Yoko and those young men were positively bubbling with hunger for each other.” She laughed.

Maeda was shocked. “How do you get such ideas? Surely it’s not proper to spy on a neighbor having an affair with a market boy.”

Tora chortled. She said, “Maeda, you have a lot to learn about women, especially old, lonely ones. Those children are a blessing for me. You’re right. Loneliness makes people nosy.”

“And where would the police be without nosy people,” Tora said.

Maeda grinned sheepishly. “I’m turning into a prude. The other day I thought Tora was Yoko’s latest victim.”

Tora blushed. “Prey maybe, but not victim. Though she’s a pretty woman and doesn’t deserve a husband like that. Do we look for one of her lovers now?”

Maeda frowned. “I don’t know. She has a right to leave her husband. Besides, I don’t want to tell the poor besotted bastard where we found her. Assuming we do.”

And that was the end of that. On the way back, they stopped to speak to Hiroshi, who glared at them as he flung a last bundle into his handcart. “What now?” he growled.

“Nothing to do with you or your father,” said Maeda. “I just wondered if you were here yesterday.”

“What if I was?”

“Well, did you happen to see the woman across the street?”

“No.”

“Or any visitors to her house?”

“No. Are you after that poor bitch now? What’s she supposed to have done, killed her husband?”

Maeda clenched his hands. Tora said quickly, “Nothing of the sort. What are you up to?”

Hiroshi transferred his glare to him. “None of your business, but if you must know, I’m selling some stuff. My father has no need for it now, and my wife and children are hungry.”

They walked away, shaking their heads.

“Captin Okatta, governor zir.” Koji stood aside to let the police chief enter.

Akitada was in the tribunal office, and the captain stood just inside the door. He was a slender man with a narrow face and pinched lips and wore his bright red uniform with the black feathered cap. At the moment he looked irritated. Akitada gave Mori a nod, the secretary did the same with the two scribes. They got up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Akitada said coldly, “So you finally show up. What kept you from reporting?”

Okata saluted and said in a clipped voice, “Press of business, sir.”

“You will address me as ‘Your Excellency.’ I’m surprised nobody explained simple protocol to you.”

Okata flushed. “His Excellency Governor Tachibana was the easy-going type. He didn’t stand on ceremony, provided a man did his job well.” He paused, then added, “Your Excellency.”

He was defiant. Akitada saw that the interview would be extremely unpleasant. Suddenly angered, he decided to make short work of it.

“I’m glad you speak of a man doing his job well, Okata,” he said. “I have ordered you to report because I have reason to find fault with the way you are handling it.”

Okata raised his chin. “I’m aware of the posters you put up around town. No doubt every man, woman, and child who’s ever been in trouble with the law filed a complaint.”

So the man was not stupid. His bad performance was due to other reasons. Laziness? Or the conviction he was too good for the job? It did not matter.

Akitada pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Whatever your explanations may be for them, I have here fifty-one separate charges against you or your men. That is an unreasonable number even if they were all from people you’ve arrested. One of my men had the chance to observe your handling of a murder case.” He held up the thick sheaf of papers. “In some of the other cases you refused to investigate charges brought by citizens, you ordered your men to rough up witnesses, you confiscated goods for no good reason, you took two families’ homes away from them and bestowed them on friends of yours, you dismissed policemen because they opposed your orders to use cruel beatings in order to get confessions, and the list goes on. This will not do, Okata.” He paused. “You are dismissed.”

Okata blinked. “Dismissed?” he asked uncertainly. “You mean I can go?”

“No!” Akitada slammed his fist on his desk, making the ink stone and water flask jump and a stack of papers topple. “No,” he repeated more calmly. “I mean you are dismissed from your position as captain of the Hakata police force and as chief of police. My secretary has your final pay requisition slip. You need not return to your station. If you have property belonging to police headquarters, you will return it within a week. Now you may leave.”